You Look So Fine
by haunted-mind-14
Summary: Slash! Story about CM Punk and Jon/Dean Ambrose. "You look so fine, I want to break your heart And give you mine, you're taking me over. It's so insane, you've got me tethered and chained. I hear your name and I'm falling over." Update! Decided maybe I should keep going with this, part two is up now!
1. You Look So Fine

Author's note: I offer for your consideration a little one-shot story. It is a pairing of CM Punk and Jon/Dean Ambrose. This pair is very hot, in my opinion. I hope you all think so too. As usual, I own nothing. Just a piece of fiction. Song lyrics used within and the title of the story comes from the band Garbage and the song is called "You Look So Fine". I hope everyone enjoys!

_You look so fine,_

_I want to break your heart And give you mine, _

_you're taking me over._

_It's so insane,_

_you've got me tethered and chained _

_I hear your name_

_and I'm falling over._

Jon was pissed. He was livid. He was so fucking angry he could taste it. Well, that and the whiskey. He sat in a bar after RAW had wrapped up for the night, taking shots and trying to make left or right of the events that had taken place in his life over the last couple of years. Jon wasn't used to being rejected. He didn't take it very well when it did happen to him. "Punk. Fucking CM Punk." Jon whispered to himself. How had this one man thrown his life so out of whack? It had started in October 2011. Jon and Punk had a match at an FCW show. After the match Jon couldn't stop thinking about him. He wanted him. He felt this desire to have him, it had grown to an uncontrollable obsession. For the last year and three months now he had been trying to figure out how to make Punk his. All of his attempts had failed, the late night texts asking Punk to come out and join the party, always going unanswered or ignored. The daily talks about wrestling that he was always hoping would develop into something more. Hell, even the direct approach had failed.

Jon took another double shot of whiskey down and thought about the night before. He decided that he couldn't take it anymore, he had to do something. He knew that he had to try to make a real move and for some reason, now had to be that time. All of these months of frustration, unrequited desire, Jon had all he could take. As soon as he caught Punk out of the corner of his eye that night he tried to figure out the best course of action. Jon hadn't exactly planned on pulling him into a broom closet, but that was just the way it had worked out.

"What the fuck?!" Punk yelled at Jon. "What is this? Secret pre-show meeting that I wasn't aware of?" he asked.

Jon sighed. "No, not quite." he answered. He stared at Punk, his hazel eyes big and bright, staring right back at him intently. "Look, I'm going to be direct and to the point here." Jon continued, his hands on his hips. "I want you. I think you want me, I'm usually pretty good at reading these kinds of things. So, let's not play a game anymore. I thought the direct approach might just be the right way." Jon moved closer to Punk as he continued. He grinned at Punk, now leaning against a stack of boxes as he listened. "I have been thinking about you non-stop ever since that night last year when you and I were in the ring together. You did something to me that night, something lit up somewhere in my brain..." Jon said, motioning over his head wildly as he did, "...and I haven't been the same since. I want you. I think about you and I every night when I crawl into my empty bed alone, and I think about what your cock looks like. I think about what I would do to you. I want you. I need to know, what is your answer? Am I right or am I wrong? Do you want this? Because I know damn well I do..." Jon finished, trailing off a bit then.

Punk stared at him for a few moments before speaking. "I'm sorry. I don't think we should." he said slowly. "I'm sorry." he said again before brushing past Jon and exiting the room.

Jon stood there for a few minutes, in awe of what had just happened. All this time, all these months he had been on fire for Punk, and now he knew it had been for nothing. Jon's head was heavy. The whole room was red. Jon screamed as he kicked over the stack of boxes Punk had been leaning against. He lifted one high above his head and threw it down, yelling out "DAMMIT!" as it busted on the floor. Jon broke every broom and mop in the room over his knee and launched the pieces at the walls. When he was through he sat on the floor, confused. "How could I have been so wrong?" he asked himself. Jon hated to be wrong, almost as much as he hated Punk's rejection.

Now, sitting there in the bar, slowly drinking himself into numbness, the events once again unfolded in his mind. Jon began to get more and more pissed off as he sat there at the bar. He needed to get some fresh air. He needed a cigarette to calm him down. Jon worked his way through all of the other people in the bar that night, walking out the back door of the bar and into the alleyway. "Fuck." he said to himself, the cold night air hit him hard and he noticed it had started to snow just a bit. Jon pulled his hood over his head and lit up his cigarette, taking a long drag from it before letting it out.

_I'm open wide,_

_I want to take you home_

_We're wasting time, _

_you're the only one for me._

_You look so fine._

Jon felt as though he had relaxed a little bit as he was half done with his smoke. That all washed away as he heard that voice. "Put that thing out Jon, that's bad for you." Punk. There he was, standing just down the alley from him.

"Fuck. THIS." Jon said, heading back for the door.

"No, Jon." Punk grabbed Jon by the arm and pressed him against the brick wall of the building.

"Let me go. I don't want to stand out here and talk to you. I need to go back inside and have more whiskey." Jon said, not wanting to even look at Punk.

"Just wait a minute." Punk said slowly. "Let me tell you..."

"NO. FUCK THAT!" Jon yelled, feeling the same anger from the night before coming back to the surface once again. "I think that you made it abundantly clear last night how you feel. I don't think I want to hear it again."

"I can't be with you, and you can't be with me, and if you just let me explain to you what I need to explain maybe I can make you understand." Punk said. "Jon, just listen for once in your life."

"What? Listen to what?" Jon questioned as Punk looked at him. Punk had the most serious look on his face, his handsome features had hardened and his hazel eyes were dark and transfixed on Jon. The usual bags underneath his eyes looked even more prominent today, making Jon wonder if Punk had been up all night just like he had. "I don't think I have it in me to stand out here and listen to you say that you don't want to be with me two nights in a row, so just let's cut our losses right now and go on with our lives." Jon said that, but he knew it wouldn't be that simple. It couldn't be. Looking at Punk made something jump inside of him, like this switch had been turned on and Jon had do idea how to turn it off.

"Jon..." Punk began. He looked at Jon, his hair a mess. Those wild blue eyes of his staring a hole through him. Punk could tell that Jon was genuinely hurt by his response the night before. "This really means something to you, doesn't it?" he asked.

Jon couldn't answer. He got more and more angry then, not enjoying the thought of Punk trying to toy with him.

"Jon, you and I are one in the same." Punk began. "You and I are alike in so many ways. We have so many things in common. We have the same qualities, the same talents, the same drive..." he continued as Jon tried to make sense of what Punk was trying to tell him. "...but what it hurts me to say to you is that those are the reasons why you and I could never be able to work. Think about it. I don't even mean in any other aspect other than sexual. I haven't even thought of anything else since last night when you said what you did to me." Jon's head snapped up, looking at Punk's face now as he spoke. "You think I've never thought of you with lust in my heart? You think I've never had desire for you? You're fucking nuts then. You know I have. I've wanted you. You're beautiful, Jon. Look at you. You're a fucking beautiful man." Punk reached out and pressed his hand to Jon's face, cupping his chin in his palm and moving closer now so that their bodies met. Jon took a deep breath. He had been dreaming of being this close, he had fantasized of being in this scenario countless nights.

"But...I know that we could never act on our feelings, and it hurts me to say that, but it's true." Punk continued. "Think about it Jon. You and I both want the same thing, you know that. You and I both are the same with sex. We both want to have all the power, we both want the control. What we need to be satisfied is for the other person to submit. And you and I both know that neither one of us is going to submit to the other."

Jon hated that he was right. Jon knew that both of them were dominant in the bedroom. That was just their way. It was part of their beings. Jon didn't think either one of them knew any other sort of way to find pleasure in being with another human being. It had to be a certain way. Just plain old vanilla, 'I love you, baby' lovemaking would never get it done for either one of them. Jon didn't want to accept this, he didn't want to think about it being the answer, the final answer. Jon was desperate. He felt horrible to feel this way, but he was desperate. He wanted to do anything he could in that moment to change Punk's mind.

_You're taking me over _

_Over and over _

_I'm falling over _

_Over and over_

"No, no." Jon whispered. "NO. Punk, don't tell me that. Don't tell me that." he said, feeling his words beginning to sound more like pleas. He didn't care. He felt so much for this man and had just enough whiskey in him that he didn't care anymore. Jon took Punk's face in his hands, pressing his thumbs along his cheekbones. He took Punk's hood off his head and watched as the snowflakes gently fell across punk's face and hair. "Just give me a chance. That's all I want. That's what I need. Just let me show you. I know I can show you if you just let me, I know what this could be, why don't you understand?" he pleaded with Punk. Jon held his face in his hands still as he spoke. "Just let me show you, please..." Jon leaned in, pressing his lips to Punk's. Punk tried to pull away, but Jon pulled him in, pressing his arms around Punk's body and keeping him close. Jon kissed him, their lips pressing together. Punk's lips were so soft, his taste so sweet. Jon tried to go deeper but Punk broke free, Jon losing contact with his lips.

"Stop Jon." Punk said, stepping back and putting his hood back over his head. "Dammit, Jon. I told you, I know that this couldn't work. Why don't you listen?" he asked, Jon sensing the anger rising up in his voice.

Jon ran his hands through his hair, pulling it back away from his face. He crouched down low to the ground, resting his head against the wall behind him. He thought for a moment of what to say next, not wanting to say the wrong thing. "Jon..." Punk said, moving closer once again.

"I want you. I need you." Jon began. "So, you said you thought about this too. I knew you had. I fucking knew it. I have ached for you, I have longed for you. All I have wanted was to know what this would be like, how it would feel to be with you. And now you tell me that you don't think it's a good idea?" he asked, looking up at Punk. "How did you think I was going to take this?"

"I don't know, Jon. I just thought you deserved to have a better explanation than the one I gave you last night, that's all." Punk said. "I don't mean to hurt you. That's not my intention. I'm sorry."

"Sorry. You're sorry. I don't want to hear that. I don't want to hear that you're sorry. SORRY?" Jon yelled then, "Sorry is what you'll be if you throw this away, sorry is what you'll be if you let me slip through your fingers." Jon stood up then, taking Punk's hand in his. Both of their hands were cold from standing outside in the snowy weather. "Don't tell me that we couldn't do this, we could. We could leave right now, you could come with me, just come with me. Don't you see, don't you see? DAMMIT! How do you not see this?" Jon asked, squeezing Punk's hand. "I want you. Please, we can make it work. Don't you see that the fact that you and I are exactly alike is what would MAKE it work? That's not a problem. It's what makes up perfect for each other. We know exactly what WE want. We know exactly what the OTHER wants. How could it ever be bad, how could it ever be wrong?" Jon pleaded. "What is it you don't see?"

"Jon, you want to know what I see?" Punk asked, letting go of Jon's grip on his hand. "I see a man who is so desperate to keep hold of a desire, an obsession maybe, that he would say almost anything to keep me here."

Jon's heart sank. He didn't want Punk to see the tears that he feared may start to fall down, he could feel them welling up. This was never the way Jon imagined this going. How had it all gone so wrong? Jon stared at the ground, the snow beginning to collect there more and more. "Don't say that." Jon whispered. "So that's it, that's all. It's already been decided that this can never be."

"Jon, I just don't think it would work." Punk said. "I'm sorry. I just don't see it going the way either one of us would like for it to. Someone will get hurt, trust me."

"Someone is already hurt." Jon said softly, looking in Punk's eyes as he did. Punk pursed his lips, his expression softening slightly. Jon couldn't help himself. He grabbed Punk again and pressed their lips together. Punk didn't protest this time, or try to pull away. Jon felt him give in slightly. He knew it was just out of pity. Jon knew that Punk didn't really want to kiss him, he knew it deep down. He just was thankful that Punk was now allowing him the satisfaction of kissing him, even if only for just a moment. Jon knew then, deep in their kiss, that this was all they would ever have. There would never be another moment like this. He needed to make it last.

Jon kissed him, shivering when Punk allowed his tongue to enter his mouth and meet with his own. Jon sighed, pressing his hand against the back of Punk's head over his hood. Jon pressed his body to Punk's, the cold air seeming to vanish as their body heat met. Just as Jon was beginning to grow used to the feeling of Punk's lips on his, the hard metal of Punk's lip ring brushing against his lips, Punk broke their kiss once again.

Jon let him go now, he knew that this was it. Their moment was gone, fleeting as it was. He didn't know if he could accept that this was all they would ever have. "So this is it?" he asked as Punk turned and began to walk away.

"I'm sorry." he repeated to Jon again. Jon had lost count of how many times he had told him that these last few days.

"You will be." Jon said to himself as he watched Punk walk away, leaving a trail of footsteps in the snow as he left Jon standing there alone. Jon didn't want to cry, he hated to cry, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. Jon wondered how he was supposed to just let go of something he had wanted for so long. He hoped that he could cope, find his way. "I love you." he whispered to the trail of footprints in the snow. "I loved you."

_Knocked down,_

_cried out_

_Been down just to find out_

_I'm through living for you _

_Let's pretend, happy end Let's pretend, happy end Let's pretend, happy end Let's pretend, happy end _


	2. It's As If I'm Suffocating

This started out as just a one-shot, but the more I thought about it, I wanted to keep going with it. I think that right now I have about four or maybe five parts in mind to this story, as long as it goes the way I am thinking it will. I've been listening to songs by Stabbing Westward while I've been writing this, there are two songs that I think go with it. One is "What Do I Have To Do". I think it goes with the theme of this story. I have included some of the lyrics.

Spoiler alert: special guest appearance by Chris Jericho in this chapter. Flashbacks are in italics. Okay, here we go. Please let me know what you think!

_You make it hard to breathe,_

_it's as if I'm suffocating._

_And when you're next to me,_

_I can feel your heartbeat through my skin._

_It makes me sad to think this could all be for nothing._

_I wish there was a way,_

_a way for you to see inside me._

_I've never felt this way about anyone or anything._

It had been a long few weeks for Jon after the night when Punk rejected him. He had thought of the events of that night over and over again in his head. He couldn't help himself, he couldn't help but replay it over in his mind. It was especially bad at night when he tried to find sleep. It just wouldn't come. There was no peace for him, though he tried. He was sure that now he had bags underneath his eyes that could match Punk's own.

Jon imagined Punk, walking around now fine. He probably went on with his everyday life as though nothing was different. Not Jon. Nothing could be the same now. There was no way. Jon hated this rejection, this unwillingness to even attempt to explore what could be between them. It just baffled him. Jon knew down in his heart that the fact that they were so similar would be the thing that made them the most beautiful together. Jon couldn't understand what Punk didn't see here.

Jon would toss and turn in bed at night, not being able to find a way to get comfortable. His body burned and he felt as though some nights he had forgotten how to breathe, suffocating from the pain and the confusion of the word "No" slipping from Punk's lips so many times. And that other word, the one that burned in Jon's mind more and more. "Sorry." Why the fuck had Punk repeated that word so many times that night? Jon didn't believe for a moment that he was sorry.

It got worse when the sleepless nights inevitably turned into days, days where Jon had to see Punk. There was no avoiding it, they would have to see each other at the shows. Jon did his best to avoid him whenever it was possible. Jon was quite sure that Punk knew this, but he was sure that he didn't care.

Punk might as well have spat in his face that night. Jon knew now that these past few years, trying to imagine what it would be like...they had been for nothing. Here Jon had been thinking there was something between them, that their day would come. No. Punk had made it abundantly clear that it could never happen.

The part that got Jon the worst, hurt the most, really, had been the part where Punk told him that he HAD thought of Jon that way, he had entertained the same thoughts Jon had of him, he just refused to act on them. That had to be the part that cut the deepest for Jon. He refused to understand how he could admit to wanting him, how Punk could say he was beautiful, but not allow them to give this any sort of a chance.

Jon sat backstage, minding his own business. He was doing his best that day to put on a brave face, make it look like he had at least slept in the last few days and that he wasn't disappointed in the way his life had been going lately. Jon leaned over in the chair he sat in, lacing up his boots. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone sit beside him, figuring it was Seth. "OH, Fuck no." Jon said as he looked up, seeing it was Punk sitting beside him.

"Jon, I need you to sit here and not freak out and just act like we're having a normal conversation. Please, I need to talk to you. Don't rouse any suspicion. Just sit here and let me talk to you and act normal. And for fuck's sake, try not to have that look on your face." Punk instructed him.

"What look?" Jon asked.

Punk sighed heavily, telling him, "That look like you hate me..." he trailed off as he did, looking at Jon as he did.

Jon frowned, not wanting to look Punk in the face. Punk continued. "Jon, I know I'm not your favorite person right now..."

"No shit." Jon scoffed. "Why should I sit here with you and listen to any more of this?" he asked, folding his hands in his lap. "I think you said enough to make it clear last time we talked. And anyway, I don't have any whiskey in me this time to numb the eventual pain that your words are going to bring me, and I don't feel like taking on this kind of pain sober today."

"Just hear me out." Punk said, putting his hand on Jon's knee. "Then you can get up and walk away, you can curse me, you can punch me square in the face...I don't care. Just let me say what I want to say..."

"Fine." Jon mumbled. "Make it fast."

Punk let out a heavy breath again, this look of relief coming across his face as Jon agreed to listen. Punk had feared that Jon might not even allow him to talk to him. He would have understood. It wasn't like they had ended things on good terms last time they had spoken. Punk knew that he had hurt Jon. He wasn't proud. That was never the intention, to hurt his friend. Punk had to say no, there was no other way. He knew, deep down, that it wouldn't work between them. Punk knew because not that long ago, he _was_ Jon, he knew this pain, and he knew how it felt. He had been in Jon's position not that long ago, and he hoped that by explaining this to Jon, maybe he could ease some of that pain.

"I know how you're feeling. I know exactly what you're feeling, and I know it's not pretty." Punk said, staring at Jon. Jon just watched him out of the corner of his eye as he spoke. He didn't want to look Punk in the eye, he couldn't. Not yet. "I know what you're going through because I've been there, Jon. I've been where you are."

"Oh, yeah? Where is that?" Jon asked. He hated that Punk assumed he understood how this felt for him.

"I've been hurt. I've been rejected by someone I was sure I could have. I know what this pain is. I have felt it. And I know, it fucking hurts. It hurts like hell." Punk continued.

"What does this have to do with me?" Jon asked, confused.

"Last year, last year right before Wrestlemania..." Punk began to explain, having to stop to catch his breath as he spoke. Jon looked over then, looking at Punk's eyes. He saw then something he hadn't seen before. He looked in Punk's eyes, seeing this pained look. He knew that Punk was telling him something that came from a very real place. He knew that it wasn't just Punk trying to bullshit him and make him feel better, sugarcoat things. He was telling the truth. Jon could tell. When Punk was telling you the truth, when he was passionate about what he was saying, he had a different look in his eyes and he didn't blink as he spoke. That was what Jon saw in Punk as Punk continued to talk.

"Last year, I was you. I was you Jon. I was in your position. I was in your shoes." he explained to Jon. "I wanted someone. And they refused me."

Jon took a deep breath. "They must have been insane." he said.

Punk let out a short laugh. "I was you. I was infatuated with someone and I was sure that they would want me. I thought I could have them. I thought they would have me. But, boy...was I wrong. It got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore, I had to tell them. It got to a place where I knew it was now or never. So, I told him, I told him how I felt. And do you know what happened?"

"No. What?" Jon asked, feeling a chill run through him as he began to see the similarities between what Punk was saying and what had happened between the two of them. Jon wasn't stupid. He knew what came next.

"He told me no. He laughed at me. He laughed right in my fucking face, Jon. I felt so small. He laughed at me, told me it could never work between the two of us. See, just like you wanted me, you picked me and I was someone just like you...I had picked someone just like me. And then came the rejection. He told me that we were too much alike to ever work. He told me that we had too many similar qualities to ever be compatible. That if we had a sexual relationship, all it would ever amount to would be a power struggle over dominance. Nobody would ever walk away satisfied. And that I wasn't really his type of man to begin with..." Punk explained.

_2012_

"_Chris, just give it a chance..." Punk said, hating that now his words were beginning to sound more like pleas. He had to do something to keep Chris here, there had to be a way to make him understand how he felt and make him see that this was worth a shot._

"_Phil, there is no chance." Jericho reinforced, pulling himself from Punk's grip. "I know that this would never work. Why don't you understand? We are not the type of people who can together have a functioning relationship."_

_Punk felt a sharp jolt of pain shoot through his body with every word that Chris spoke to him. He stared down at the floor, that was until Chris picked his head up. He cradled Punk's chin in his palm, making Punk look up at him once again as he continued. "Look, kid...you're great. You're a good guy. You're just not for me. You and I both want the same things, I can tell. I want someone who I can dominate. I want someone who submits to me. I want someone who will be my little slut, my little servant. I want someone who is not you. That's not you at all, we both know that. You and I both know that you could never be someone you're not. Besides, I usually go for someone who is different from me...I like to go for the bigger guys. Not someone my size. I like to take the bigger men and then make them submit. It's that much more of a thrill for me. So, you understand what I'm telling you, right?"_

"_Yeah." Punk lied, he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and stepped away from Chris, his hand releasing his chin as he moved. _

"_I'm sorry, kid." Chris said, beginning to walk away. "I'm sorry if I let you down, but that's the way it has to be."_

_What do I have to do to make you happy?_

_What do I have to do to make you understand? _

_What do I have to do to make you want me? _

_But if I can't make you want me, just tell me, tell me..._

Jon squinted, trying to understand. "So...why are you telling me all of this?" he asked.

"I wanted to tell you that I can relate to you. I know what you're going through. I understand." Punk said.

Jon scoffed. "You understand." he said coldly.

Punk frowned. "I do, whether you think so or not." he said. "I was hoping that by telling you all of this that maybe then I could make you understand why I told you no. I like to think that I let you down a little more gently than he did to me. I wish that it had been easier for me, and I'm trying to make it easier for you."

"So, let me get this straight?" Jon asked him, beginning to feel the anger build up more and more as they spoke. "You wanted to tell me your little story here, and I don't think you did it at all to make me understand anything. I think you did it to make yourself feel better."

Punk looked down at the floor. He shook his head. This was not going the way he had hoped it would. "No, that's not it." Punk mumbled towards the floor.

"Oh, I think it is. I think you feel guilty about rejecting me and now you're going to tell me your little bullshit sob story about someone who didn't want you to make yourself feel better. Maybe take the focus off of me and try to make me feel sorry for you, turn things around on me?" Jon asked, sitting up more in his chair now.

Punk shook his head. "No. It's not for selfish reasons at all, Jon." Punk did feel badly about what had happened between them that night at the bar, there was no denying it. He didn't like the fact that he knew he had hurt Jon. But he wasn't just doing this for himself. He was doing it for the both of them. Why couldn't Jon understand that?

"You're trying to make this easier for me? Easier for me?" Jon asked him. "You know what, I don't believe that for a second. I think you just feel guilty and you're sitting here talking to me just to make yourself feel better about what you did to me that night. It's not going to work that way." Jon continued, standing up now. He leaned in to Punk, talking close to his face now. "You know what would make this easier on me? DON'T FUCKING TALK TO ME ABOUT IT EVER AGAIN. I'm not you and you're not Jericho." Jon whispered hard against Punk's ear, hoping the message would get across. He stormed away, trying to find a quiet place to go where he would be alone to collect his thoughts until it was showtime.

_I know exactly what you're thinking,_

_But I swear this time I will not let you down._

_I'm not as selfish as I used to be._

_That was a part of me that never made me proud._

_Right now I think I would try anything ._

_Anything at all to keep you satisfied..._

After The Shield did their run-in for the night, Jon hung around in the back, watching the rest of the show from the shadows. He watched as Punk came out, watching every move he made on his way to the ring. He thought over and over again about what they had talked about earlier. Jon began to feel more and more regret as he stood there watching Punk in the ring.

What if Punk had been telling the truth? What if he wasn't just trying to make himself feel better about their situation like Jon had accused him of? Jon knew that he probably had been genuine in his attempt to relate, but Jon's automatic defense was to argue. To fight. To turn things around on the other person and then leave.

Jon began to feel bad, and the more he thought about what Punk had said, the more he did understand him. Punk had been in his shoes, he knew that now. And in telling him this, he really was hoping that Jon would relate to him. He was just trying to apply his experience to this. Jon had to admit, from the story Punk told, he had been let down much more easily than Punk had. He guessed he had that to be thankful for, at least.

Jon didn't know why, but he felt this strange urge to apologize. That was something that didn't happen very often, not coming from Jon. He had given out only a select few apologies in his day. He thought of Punk sitting there beside him, trying to explain his actions to Jon. He thought of how Punk must have felt, he was sure that the conversation had taken a turn that Punk hadn't expected it to. Jon thought long and hard about all of this, and he knew what he had to do.

_God, I hope you see,_

_What losing you would do to me. All I want is one more chance, tell me._

_What do I have to do to make you happy? _

_What do I have to do to make you understand?_

_What do I have to do to make you want me? _

_But if I can't make you want me,_

_just tell me, tell me..._

Jon waited outside by Punk's rental car, the cold air slowly seeping in and chilling him to the bone. He pulled his hood up over his head and waited. He saw him finally, that familiar figure walking out towards his car.

"Jon, what are you doing?" Punk asked. "I thought you said you didn't want to talk anymore..."

"I'm sorry." Jon said softly.

"What did you say?" Punk asked, shocked.

"I said I was sorry. Just like you told me that night." Jon repeated. Jon looked all around him to make sure there was nobody else around and then made his move. He pressed Punk against his car and began. "Look, I said I was sorry, you said you were sorry. But I don't think there's really anything to be sorry for. I think we're both missing the point here."

Punk looked up at Jon, a confused look across his face. "I listened to you, now you hear me out." Jon asked of him. Punk nodded his head.

"I know you have your reasons. I get it. You got hurt. You got rejected. You didn't get what you wanted. You didn't get who you wanted. I see it. I understand. But like I told you, I'm not you and you're not him." Jon said, hoping that he would be able to find the right words to make Jon comply with what he was asking of him. "You're Phil. I'm Jon. We're two completely different people. I know you think we're too similar to ever be able to make it, but you're wrong. You're wrong and I know it. You haven't thought about this the way that I have. I think you and I would be perfect for each other."

"Jon..." Punk began in protest, but Jon wouldn't let him. He pressed his body against Punk's, pressed his fingers to Punk's lips.  
"Shh. Just let me talk. I want you to do something for me. I can only ask this of you, and hope that you will do it. What can it hurt?" Jon asked, reaching in his pocket. "I'm going to give you this card." he said, placing a room card in Punk's palm. "And I want you to use it. See that hotel over there across the street?" Jon asked as he pointed. Punk nodded. "It's there. I want you to come there. I want you to come to my room. I want you to give me just one night, just one chance. That's all I ask of you Phil. Please."

Punk sighed. He couldn't believe Jon was asking this of him. "Give me just tonight. Just this one night. And if, after this...you still don't think it will work. If you don't think we can do this...if you don't want to see me again...if you don't feel the same way I do..." Jon paused then, getting choked up at the thought. "...then we turn around, we part ways. We end it. We don't play this game ever again. And that's it. But you have to give it a chance, just give it a fucking chance, Phil." Punk looked up at Jon once more, the look in those blue eyes was pleading with Punk 'Please'.

"Isn't that what you would have wanted him to give you?" Jon asked. Punk shook his head then, looking down. "I know it is, I know you must have said the same things to him that I've said to you, didn't you?"

Punk bit his lip, looking at Jon. "Yeah."

"So give me what he wouldn't give you. Just one night. One opportunity. We owe it to each other." Jon continued. Jon looked at Punk's face. He could see the mess of emotions he had brought up displayed across Punk's face. Jon hoped he had said enough to convince him. Jon held Punk's face in his hand and kissed him, instinctively feeling their bodies meld together as they did. He knew Punk was dying to know what this could be like, he was sure. "Do it for me, but more than anything else..." Jon whispered as he broke their kiss, "...do it for yourself."

Jon broke their embrace and began walking away. Punk stood there, watching him. Punk didn't know what to do. He wanted to follow Jon, he wanted to accept his offer. But he didn't know if it was the right thing to do. The last thing Punk wanted to do now was anything that would further hurt either one of them. _"So give me what he wouldn't give you. Just one night. One opportunity. We owe it to each other_." Jon's words haunted him. Maybe he was right...

_What do I have to do to make you want me?_

_What do I have to do to make you understand? _

_What do I have to do to make you love me?_

_But if I can't make you love me,_

_just tell me, _

_What do I have to do to forget about you?_


End file.
